Untitled (through ch 8)
by wingako
Summary: M/R Chapter 8 for anyone who still remembers this story! Mimi wants Roger to leave Mark, oh no!
1. Unhappy Birthday

Untitled: A RENT fanfic

(Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they belong to Jonathan Larson and I can only wish I had my own Mark.)

Ch 1: Unhappy Birthday

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…" Mark sang dejectedly under his breath as he stared at his birthday cake- a Hostess cupcake with a single candle stuck in the middle. He sighed and reached for the box of matches. _How could all my friends forget? _the lonely blonde questioned as he sang. It wasn't as if he had wanted a big party- just a simple "happy birthday" would have sufficed.

Opening the matchbox and pulling one out, Mark reviewed his day. He had slept late this morning, surprised that Roger fumbling around the loft didn't wake him. Mark soon realized why Roger hadn't awakened him; Roger had spent the night at Mimi's… again. That was when he remembered with a jolt that today was his birthday- Mark dared not to expect much, none of his friends exactly had extra cash to blow, but it wasn't like it was his birthday everyday. Feeling a little childish for making a big deal about his birthday, Mark turned on his camera. "February 4th, 10 am eastern standard time- Another year past in the life of Mark. Time will tell what today will bring-" He grinned into his camera and then clicked it off.

Looking back on this morning Mark couldn't believe how optimistic he'd been. He reflected on the rest of the day's events- or lack thereof. In short, Mark sat by himself all day, jumping at the slightest sound of a person approaching. By 9 pm he realized that no one was coming. Forlorn and more depressed than he'd ever been before; Mark had to get out of the apartment. After wandering around for a while, the bitter cold of the night cutting through his worn out coat, he ended up returning with the sadistic idea of celebrating by himself.

He sighed as he struck the match and lit the candle on his "cake." _And that's how I ended up here._ Mark watched as the candle slowly burned down; the hot wax pooled and then cooled over the top of his cupcake, finally the candle burned out. All the while Mark hadn't moved. He heard footsteps coming towards his door, but didn't even bother to lift his head when the door creaked open and in walked his best friend, Roger.

"Hey buddy," Mark's roommate smiled as he hurried in and searched through his pile of music until he found the sheet he wanted, half-oblivious to Mark sitting there. "Mark, I'll see you later-" Roger turned around and saw him clearly for the first time. "What's wrong?"

Mark refused to look at him.

"Whatever it is Mark, I don't have time for this," Roger snapped impatiently.

"You never have time for me!" Mark yelled, standing up so quickly, he knocked his chair over. He stared at Roger coldly before turning away and letting the tears that had been threatening to fall for most of the later part of the day spill freely over his cheeks. _Way to be a man,_ Mark silently criticized himself.

"Mark, what the hell are you talking about?" Roger questioned as he watched his friend's shoulders shake. He couldn't understand why Mark was so upset, but something on the table caught his eye. _A cupcake?_ Roger thought as he picked it up, examining the wax and the candle stub in it. "Oh my god… Mark, I'm so sorry! Dammit! Why didn't Maureen or Collins say anything?" Roger put the cupcake down and approached his friend.

"Because," Mark choked out, "they didn't remember either."

"How can I make this up to you?" Roger asked, putting his hand on the trembling man's shoulder. Roger couldn't believe what a horrible friend he had been to Mark the past couple of months. "I know I've neglected you. I'm sorry Mark, I don't know what to say. Can I make this up to you? Mark, please tell me how can I make this up to you?"

Mark slowly turned around to face his friend, his face was red from crying. "How about," Mark paused and sniffed, "saying happy birthday?"

"Happy birthday Mark," Roger said, pulling his friend into a hug.

(This chapter is short, but alas! There's more. So read on! And please review…)


	2. I'm Working On It

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Jonathan Larson does. I'm just some obsessive fan..

Ch 2: I'm Working On It

Roger collapsed on the couch after practically forcing Mark to go to bed, promising that they'd spend the say together tomorrow.

"How the hell could I have forgotten his birthday?" Roger muttered, putting his hands over his face. He knew why, ever since he and Mimi had gotten back together he had been spending most of his time with her, or he had been practicing with his band. A small thought bugged him from the back of his mind. _You've been avoiding him on purpose. _Roger pushed that out of his mind as quickly as it had entered, not wanting to believe it. Instead, he started worrying about Mark. _But what if I hadn't come down here tonight?_ Roger wondered. _Would Mark have… have done something?_ He couldn't even bring himself to think the words. If Mark ever hurt himself Roger knew he'd be to blame. And yet, after the crappy way he'd treated him, Mark forgave him. Standing up, Roger decided that he had to make more time for his best friend; that decided he went back to Mimi's.

-------

Roger woke up early the next morning, waking Mimi to remind her he'd be gone for a while.

"I can remember what you told me last night, Roger," she rolled over, cranky because he'd woken her. "Tell Mark I'm sorry too," she said through a sleep filled voice.

"See you later," Roger said, kissing her on the cheek as she fell back asleep.

Upstairs in his and Mark's loft Roger glanced in Mark's bedroom to make sure he was still sleeping. Mark was sprawled out on his back, the covers were thrown off of him, and his shirt was all twisted, exposing some of his stomach. Roger quietly approached the bed and covered Mark, it was cold in there since they still didn't have heat. _He looks cute when he's sleeping, _Roger thought, resisting the urge to ruffle the sleeping man's hair. He stepped back quickly, knocking into the night table with a crash, realizing what he had just thought. The sudden noise caused Mark to stir and Roger hurried out of the room. _It would be really weird if he woke up and saw me standing over him._ Roger decided to try to make his friend breakfast, unfortunately he never had much experience in the kitchen.

"What should I make?" the songwriter started talking to himself. He spotted the coffee maker, it shined at him menacingly. "Think, you've seen Mark do this hundreds of times. Let's see, I need to put water in… here… and coffee… here!" Roger smiled, pretty sure he was right; he dumped some of each in their respective places, not bothering to measure. "Okay, coffee's set. Do we have any cereal?" he dug through the cabinets and found a box of Captain Crunch. He poured some of the cereal into two bowls and placed them on the table. "Not to shabby of a breakfast." Roger admired his handiwork before sitting down with his guitar and strumming quietly. Soon the smell of coffee greated him and he could hear Mark moving in his room. Roger looked up at Mark entered, all squinty-eyed and tugging his shirt down.

"Good morning Roge," Mark said, stilling squinting in the bright light. "Did you make coffee?" He sat down at the table in front of a cereal bowl as Roger served him a cup of coffee and poured milk in both bowls of cereal. "I could get used to this," Mark joked, taking a sip of the coffee.

"Does it taste okay?" Roger asked.

"The coffee? Yeah. Why? Is there some reason it shouldn't?" Mark eyed the coffee in his mug.

"No, it's just that it's my first time making coffee," he explained, sending the coffee maker a mental 'hah.'

Mark smiled. "What do you want to do today?"

"It's up to you. I'm trying to make things up to you, remember?"

"Anything I want, huh?" Mark said, finishing his breakfast and getting up. He put his dishes in the sink. "I'm gonna go get dressed.

-----

In his room, Mark dug around for some semi-clean clothes. _Maybe it'll be like old times again. _He was remembering how he and Roger used to hang out- before April and the AIDS, back when they were still in high school and when they both had left home to come and live in New York City... Mark hurriedly got dressed, realizing he was taking a while.

"Have you decided where we're going?" Roger asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

"Yeah," Mark said looking at Roger, surprised by the color of his eyes. They seemed to have transformed from a dull grey to a sparkling blue.

"Well?" Roger looked at his friend questioningly.

__

Great, now I've forgotten what I was saying, Mark scolded himself. He looked away, pretending to be searching for something in his coat pockets. "Uhm…"

"Did you forget where you wanted to go?" Roger laughed.

"No," Mark turned back, avoiding Roger's eyes. "I heard about this free independent film festival that's being held on tenth street. I kinda wanted to check it out." Mark mumbled, pretty sure Roger wouldn't be too thrilled about the idea.

"Okay, great!" his friend surprised him.

"Really?" Mark couldn't keep his mouth from dropping open.

"Come on, let's go," Roger said. _This means a lot to Mark, I won't complain. After all, how many of my band's gigs has he sat through?_

(What? That's it? No, no silly… next chapter please…)


	3. But You're Not Trying Hard Enough

Disclaimer: I don't claim the rights to any of these characters

Disclaimer: I don't claim the rights to any of these characters. So, don't sue cause I don't have any money anyway.

Ch 3: But You're Not Trying Hard Enough

Mark adjusted his scarf when they got outside. "When is it gonna be spring?" he whined.

"Hey," Roger tapped Mark's arm, "it's beginning to snow."

"Let's hurry then."

There was a line outside the theatre, reaching the corner. Mark and Roger joined the end. 

"What time does this thing start?"

"Around eleven," Mark answered.

"Okay, it's quarter of," Roger glanced at his watch, "they should be letting us in soon." As if on cue the line started moving, they slowly filed their way in and found two seats towards the back. 

"What's the title of the first film?" Roger asked.

Mark glanced down at the program he had grabbed. "Two of a Kind," he said as he read through the summary. "Uhh… Roger…" Mark started, glancing at the cover of the program. It read: Gay Life: Independent Films. Roger wasn't paying attention.

"This thing has quite a crowd. Whoa, Mark, look at those guys!" ho motioned towards a guy walking in with a drag queen on each arm.

"Roger!" Mark snapped.

"What?"

"We might want to leave." Roger gave him a confused look. 

The lights began to dim, as the announcer walked to the front of the room. "Welcome to the first in a series of independent film festivals by Gay Life."

The color drained from Roger's face as he frantically glanced around the room. Mark was pretty sure he knew what was going in Roger's mind: a situation like this would compromise his rock star image, at least that's what Roger thought, but Roger was very stubborn, nothing Mark could say would fix this situation. Mark stood up and pulled Roger's sleeve, motioning for him to follow.

One outside in the cold air, Roger exploded. "What the fuck was that, Mark?"

"I didn't know!" he defended himself.

"Like hell you didn't!" the musician spat, stalking off back towards their loft. The smaller man tried to keep up with him, but the driving snow was flying into his face and sticking to his glasses, making it very difficult to see. Roger strode ahead, not bothering to listen to Mark's pleas.

"Roger! Come on!" Mark shouted as he slipped on an icy patch. "It's no big deal!" he called as he clamored up from the sidewalk, ignoring the stinging pain in his elbow. Mark sighed and hurried to catch up with his friend, he finally caught him at the door to their loft; Roger didn't have his key.

"Now you have to talk to me."

"Open the door. Dammit Mark! Open the door!" Roger slammed his fist into the wall. Mark obliged and Roger stormed into the loft.

"What's your problem, Roge? I doubt anyone saw you," Mark tried to sound comforting. He took off his coat and threw it on the couch.

"You'd better hope so, Mark. If I lose my band and my music career, it'll be your fault!" Roger yelled.

"Wait a minute! This isn't fair. What the hell did I do? Just because you need to be a macho man all the time and have to make sure everyone knows what a man you are doesn't--" Before he knew what he was doing, Roger reached out and shoved Mark.

"Just SHUT UP!"

Mark fell back hard, his head smacking into table. Mark stayed down, stunned as the angry man stood over him breathing heavily.

"Mark!" a cheery voice rang across the loft. Maureen walked in followed by Joanne and Collins. "We got your message Ro-" she stopped. "What the hell is going on here?" She marched up to Roger. "Is this how you make things up to him? Trying to kill him?"

Roger was finally calming down. "No… I…"

"Mark, are you okay?" she asked. He slowly got up, and put his fingers to his temple, pulling them away he saw blood. Glaring at Roger, Mark ran out of the loft, right past Joanne and Collins, who were frozen in the doorway.

"Mark, wait!" Collins called, coming to his senses. "What happened?" he addressed Roger.

"I have to go find him," he said.

"I don't think that's the best idea," Joanne interrupted. He ignored her and walked through the door, almost straight into Mimi, who had just arrived.

"Hey!" she smiled, peering into the loft. "What's going on? Everyone looks so- Where's Mark?"

"Not now," Roger said, rushing past her.

(Yeah, it's kind of short… but I have another chapter ready for you. Well, I hope you'll be happy about that, cause I am enjoying writing this… Reviews, anyone?)


	4. I Couldn't Stop Myself

Disclaimer: :sigh: I don't own these characters

Disclaimer: :sigh: I don't own these characters. They were created by the late, great Jonathan Larson.

Ch 4: I Couldn't Stop Myself (This one is my favorite so far :-)

Outside Roger saw no sign of Mark. He walked a few blocks in the accumulating snow, not sure if he was heading in the right direction. The dark clouds and the whirling snow made it hard to see. Almost ready to give up and try somewhere else, he saw the filmmaker sitting hunched over on a bench. Mark didn't notice Roger approaching, or he just didn't care. Roger stopped suddenly when he saw the blood running unchecked down the side of Mark's face. Grabbing a few paper napkins from the nearby hot dog vendor, Roger slowly walked towards his beaten friend; his boots crunched on the snow but Mark didn't look up.

Roger sat on the edge of the bench, holding the napkins out as a peace offering. Mark ignored him altogether. Roger saw that he was shivering, Mark had left his coat back at the loft.

"Mark, I…" Roger attempted, not finding the right words. "Damn… I'm no good at this. I really wish you'd punch me or something," he chuckled. Mark stiffened. "I know I've been a horrible friend to you Mark… I… You're my best friend and… and I treat you like shit. I'm sorry," Roger finished lamely. Tears slid down Mark's cheeks and his small frame trembled. Roger moved closer and wiped some of the blood from his face. "It's barely bleeding now," he commented. "Let's go back."

Mark shook his head stubbornly.

"Your lips are turning to blue, you're going to freeze to death," Roger tugged on Mark's arm, Mark angrily shook him off.

"What do you want me to say? I'll try, Mark. I'll try to make things up to you."

"Why?" Mark asked.

"Because you're my best friend and I want to," Roger said sincerely. He stood up and patted Mark's shoulder. "Come on." Mark grudgingly obliged; he walked keeping his head down, ignoring Roger's attempted at cheering him up. _What a role reversal,_ Mark found himself thinking, _usually I'm the one trying to cheer him up._ They walked on in silence until Mark suddenly stopped a block away from their building.

"Mark, keep moving," Roger gently tried to push him ahead.

"No. I can't go back there," he looked distraught. "I can't face everyone."

Roger sighed. "I'll see what I can do," he started to walk away but turned back. "Don't, do not, go _anywhere._" Mark nodded and Roger walked away. A cold wind was blowing, cutting through Mark's clothing. He wrapped his arms around himself in vain. He decided to step into the nearby alley to get away from the direct blow of cold air, but it wasn't much better huddled against the cold wall. Finally he recognized Roger's footsteps coming towards him. Mark stepped back out onto the sidewalk and sneezed. A shiver crept down his spine.

"They're gone," Roger said, handing Mark his coat, "I thought you might want this." Mark took it and shrugged it on with stiff arms. Roger ushered him down the street, his arm half around Mark's waist.

-----

Once inside the loft, Mark plopped down in the middle of the couch and pouted. His gaze was fixed on the piece of floor just beyond his feet.

"Mark, talk to me," Roger sat down next to him.

"About what?" he asked impatiently. Roger was quiet for a while. He wasn't a good problem solver, this was normally Mark's job and he wasn't enjoying the switch.

"I don't know… Tell me what you're thinking."

"I want to know why, Roger."

"Why what?"

"Why did you react that way? About the festival," Mark added when Roger gave him a blank look.

"I don't know," he sighed. "It's just that…"

"That…?"

"…lately I…"

"Yeah…"

"It's nothing. Just something I need to sort out, it's noth-" Roger's voice caught in his throat as he watched Mark lick his lips, his eyes followed the pink tongue. _What are you doing?_ Roger snapped back to reality. "It's nothing."

"Okay," Mark said with doubt in his voice.

They were both silent for a while.

"Mark," Roger swallow, summoning his courage to say the words he'd been thinking since last night, "don't ever do anything drastic, just because you feel forgotten," he rushed through it. "There are lots of people who care about you."

"What are you getting at?" Mark asked slightly angry.

"Have you ever thought about committing suicide?" Roger asked boldly. Mark didn't answer. "Have you?"

"It doesn't matter. I'd never be able to go through with it. You don't have to worry about me," Mark finally answered.

"I don't have to worry?" Roger repeated incredulously. "Tell me you've never tried."

Mark stared at his hands. He had trouble admitting to himself that there were times in his life that he had been depressed enough to try to find a way out. "I'm here today, aren't I?" Mark replied at last, his voice strained.

"You have… Mark, why didn't you come to me?" Roger stared at him.

"You were never there!" Mark returned Roger's stare, tears in his eyes once again. _Why am I crying so much?_

Roger opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind, instead he pulled Mark into a hug. Mark cried against Roger's chest, while Roger tried to comfort him. Before he could stop himself, Roger was stoking Mark's hair and then he kissed his forehead. Startled at this gesture, Mark pulled away slightly and looked up at Roger's face. Both friends stared into each other's eyes, Roger slowly lowered his mouth to Mark's. Mark let out a muffled murmur of surprise before succumbing to the musician's lips and kissing back. Their kiss deepened as Roger moved one of hands to the back of Mark's neck. Mark allowed his to explore Roger's chest.

"What the hell?" shrieked a voice from the door, breaking the two apart. Breathing heavily, Roger snapped his head around.

"Mimi!" he choked out, pulling his arms away from Mark. His girlfriend stared at the two men for a minute before hurrying out of the loft. 

Mark glanced uncertainly at Roger, who looked both terrified and confused. "Go after her," Mark told him, feeling as confused as his roommate looked. Roger glanced at Mark before rushing out.

-----

Mark sat frozen on the couch for a while after Roger left, reliving the moment that had just occurred, tons of questions swarming through his head. _Why did that happen? Is Roger in love with me? Am I in love with Roger? How could I be gay and not have known it? Am I even gay???_ He was now thoroughly confused, yet he felt happy. _That just felt right,_ Mark finally concluded and his cheeks flushed with the memory of Roger's lips and the feelings that a small caress to the back of his neck had excited in him. For some reason, Mark had to see himself in the mirror, as if that would answer all his questions, he hurried into the bathroom. His reflection smiled at him from the mirror: red cheeks, cut on his temple and all. He gingerly put his fingertips to his lips and sighed dreamily._ I am in love with Roger…but how does Roger feel?_ That last thought burst his bubble. "Roger is in love with Mimi," Mark admitted aloud. "I don't even know what he's feeling right now. That kiss could have meant nothing to him. How could it when it meant so much to me?" Mark sighed again, this time almost defeatedly. "He did go after Mimi…"

(And that's all I have written so far. How am I doing? You *know* you want to review.)


	5. It's Too Late, I'm Already Torn

Disclaimer: I have not required the rights to any of these characters since the last time I posted

Disclaimer: I have not required the rights to any of these characters since the last time I posted. 

(Note: I kinda half-stole the title from the song "Torn" by Natalie Imbruglia [did I spell that right?])

Ch 5: It's Too Late, I'm Already Torn

"Mimi, please open the door!" Roger pleaded. His plea was answered by silence. "Mimi! Just let me explain…" he trailed off and hopelessly slumped against the door. _What's there to explain?_ a voice in his head mocked him. "Great, now I've got voices talking to me, I'm losing it," Roger mumbled to himself. All of a sudden the wall fell away from behind him. No, the door, Mimi had opened the door and Roger had fallen into her apartment.

"Explain." She stood over him with her hands on her hips.

Roger picked himself up off the floor. "Mark was crying and…" Roger struggled to find the words.

"And you decided to kiss him and make it better?" Mimi asked sarcastically.

"No! I don't know how it happened. It was a mistake, an accident," Roger lied to himself and his girlfriend at the same time.

"Really?" Mimi asked.

"Yes," Roger answered as sincerely as he could, ignoring his nagging conscience. Mimi embraced him and Roger kissed back on impulse, his body went through all the motions, but his mind was with his best friend. _How is Mark feeling? What is he thinking?_ Part of him hoped Mark would pass it off as a mistake, the egotistic part of Roger had wanted this, the part that cared only for his image and his band. But an ever-growing part of him hoped that Mark felt the same way he did. _Don't be ridiculous!_ Roger bitterly laughed involuntarily against Mimi's lips.

"What?" she asked surprised.

"Nothing," he mentally kicked himself. Mimi stared at him. _Think of something to say._ "I was just thinking about what Mark and I must have looked like to you." _Oh yeah, really smart, idiot._

"Well," Mimi smiled seductively, "some women might find it a turn-on." She began leading him towards the bedroom.

Roger swallowed nervously and followed. _This isn't what I want. But I can't deal with what I want. It would make life too hard._ His conscience nagged at him again, _Something so right couldn't be too hard._

------

Mark awoke, tormented by the fact that Roger hadn't returned last night, even though he know it was stupid of him to have expected his return. Maybe Roger thought it was a mistake, a stupid mistake, one that released a floodgate of feelings that Mark never knew he had before, and they felt so alien to him. He sat up in bed, turning his thoughts over and over in his head. He was trying to pinpoint the exact moment these feelings must have started piling in the back of his mind. Mark groaned and buried his head in his pillow. _It's too early to think about this._

-----

Roger awoke from his uneasy sleep to find the room flooded with sunlight. He sat up quickly and glanced at the woman sleeping soundly beside him. He remembered what had happened last night and felt horrible. _The box was empty and I went through with it anyway._ The thought echoed around in his mind and he couldn't bear it anymore. _Because you know it's your fault. Mimi didn't pressure you. She would've have been fine not doing it last night, but you felt the sudden need to prove yourself and now you regret it. _He carefully crawled out of bed and put his clothes on, they were freezing against his bare body. Roger tiptoed around the bed and closed the curtains, hoping Mimi would stay asleep. Without looking back, he quietly left the apartment and climbed the staircase to the floor above, silently cursing his ego.

He found the door to the loft locked and fumbled through his pockets for his key and then jammed it into the lock. The door swung open noisily and Roger strode in; Mark wasn't anywhere in sight. He sighed to himself, and checked Mark's bedroom. He stuck his head in to see Mark lying in bed, holding his pillow over his head. If the situation had been different Roger would have laughed. Instead he cleared his throat. "Mark."

Mark flung the pillow off his head and sat up, looking surprised. 

"Get dressed, we need to talk," Roger told him, surprised at the lack of emotion in his own voice. Mark silently slipped out of bed, and Roger gave him privacy.

Mark suddenly felt a surge of fear. _This doesn't sound good. _As he got dressed he resolved that he could handle whatever Roger said, whether it was what he wanted to hear or not, he would just play along. He nervously left the protection of his room and stood in front of his best friend, who seemed to be refusing to look at him. 

"Not here," Roger said softly. "Let's go somewhere." He walked out with Mark trailing behind him. _If Mimi wakes up this will be the first place she looks for me. _

"Where are we going?" Mark broke the silence once they were on the street. Roger shrugged and kept walking, Mark hurried to keep up.

Roger stopped suddenly in front of a small park, if you could call it that. It consisted of a few trees in some benches crammed in between two buildings. Apparently, Roger had stopped too suddenly since Mark had collided into his back.

"Sorry," Mark laughed sheepishly. Roger turned around and smiled as Mark straightened his glasses. "So," Mark took this as a good sign, "what did you want to talk about."

The smiled vanished from Roger's face as he collapsed onto an empty bench. "Last night, what else?"

"Okay," Mark said slowly, as he sat down, keeping a good 6 inches of space between the two of them.

"It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

__

You dragged me out here to tell me that? Mark felt his resolve slip away. "A mistake. You really think that?"

"Yea- no…"

"Which one is it? **I** didn't think it was a mistake," Mark prompted, surprising himself at his own boldness.

"Maybe it wasn't. But I can't act on it. Not now, not with my band starting to take off. And Mimi," he added after about a minute.

"What does your band have to do with anything?" Mark stared at Roger, trying to make out the emotions on his face, but Roger was staring at the ground.

Roger started to say something, but Mark cut him off. "Don't explain, I understand completely." He struggled to keep his emotions in check.

"You do?" Roger glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes, you're image is more important to you than anything else."

"No!" Roger snapped his head up. He hated himself right now. Apparently he had misjudged on how much that kiss had meant to Mark.

Mark stared at him in silence, wishing he could take back what he said. _Maybe Roger doesn't feel the way I do…_

Roger's will was being crushed under the filmmaker's stare. "It meant a lot to me, Mark, it did," he finally admitted.

Mark let out his breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "Now what?"

__

Now what? Roger asked himself. It would feel so right to give into his true feelings and stop this damn masquerade, but that would cause problems. Lots of problems. He studied Mark's sweet face, his blue eyes, expectant for an answer. He found the answer on Mark's face as he quickly closed the gap between them and softly kissed Mark's lips.

Mark smiled. "Can we go back now? I'm starving." Roger stood up, grabbed Mark's hand and pulled him up. They walked side-by-side down sidewalk, their hands casually brushing together. Mark felt happier than he had in days and it showed through the involuntary smile on his lips.

-----

After they had eaten they sat facing each other on the couch, talking about everything and anything, and gazing into each other's eyes. Roger leaned forward and kissed Mark again, stopping him in the middle of his sentence. Mark forgot what he had been saying as he kissed Roger back hungrily. He couldn't believe how nice it felt to be held by Roger, it was if he had recovered something he had lost a long time ago and they kissed as though they were making up for lost time. 

"Wow," Mark blushed as they broke apart, gasping for air.

Roger grinned at how cute Mark was. He reached out and ran his finger across Mark's jaw line, that simple gesture turned Mark's insides to goo. Mark opened his mouth to tell him just that, but Roger put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh. Don't speak," he said as he leaned in closer.

The door creaked open slowly and Roger froze. _Why didn't we lock that?_ From his vantage point he couldn't see who was at the door, but from Mark's eyes widening in alarm and the feminine shriek of indignation he could guess who it was.

"M-Mimi!" Mark stuttered.

"Was last night all a lie Roger?" she half-screamed.

He slowly turned to face her, not answering. There was a long, uncomfortable silence that followed. Mark squirmed slightly, wishing he didn't have to be witness to this. Mimi's gaze wavered back and forth between them before she turned around to leave, slamming the door behind her. The noise seemed to shock Roger into action, he sprung up, about to run after her.

"You're going after her?" Mark grabbed his wrist. "You can't have both of us, dammit!" For moment Mark thought Roger was going to throw him off and run out the door and never come back, that moment passed when he saw Roger's muscles relax and Mark dropped his arm.

Roger turned to face him. "I'm staying right here, you're the one I want." Mark wrapped his arms around his newfound love and rained kisses all over his face. The two collapsed onto the couch, a tangle of arms and legs. 

(I have more. I'm a little disappointed in the way this part turned out. It doesn't end all happily here. It will end happily someday, maybe. If I'm in a good mood (and after I cause all sorts of problems for the characters). I have plans… evil plans. Anyway, please review! I may write more today, may not. I want to, but what I want to do and what I do are two different things…)


	6. If Only Happiness Lasted

(Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, never will be

(Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, never will be.)

(Note: It's 4 days later… and I have no knowledge of clubs in NYC, so I just used one mentioned in the play. And I stole the name of the company from the TV show Working… I love that show!)

Ch 6: If Only Happiness Lasted

Mark laid in bed, half-awake, joyfully reminiscing the past 4 days. He snuggled closer to the slumbering man beside him and sighed contentedly. It was hard for him to believe that just six days ago he was doubting Roger's friendship as he sat alone on his birthday. Now he smiled, enjoying the feel of someone sleeping beside him. This was the first time he had shared a bed with someone in quite a while. _Well, since Maureen._ But that wasn't who Mark wanted to think about, he settled his eyes on Roger's face and got lost in his reverie of the last few days. He and Roger had spent most of it in their loft; Mark got the feeling that Roger wasn't ready to go public with their relationship. This was re-enforced by when Collins, Maureen and Joanne stopped by on a surprise visit and insisted on Mark and Roger going to lunch with them. Roger backed out, lying that he had to practice with his band, his eyes pleading Mark to go along with it. It didn't really bother him. _Okay, just a little,_ he admitted. _Just as long as he doesn't try hiding it for much longer._ Mark was startled back to the present when Roger rolled onto his back and stretched without opening his eyes.

"Good morning, Roge," Mark whispered as he reached out and ruffled his hair.

Roger slowly opened his eyes. "Mmmm… I fell asleep," he said, a little disoriented.

"Right in the middle of our conversation, sleepyhead. I didn't think I was that boring!" Mark said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," Roger said through a yawn.

"Don't be sorry," Mark pulled himself closer to Roger and rested his head on his chest, "you can fall asleep in my bed anytime you want."

Roger put his arms around Mark and closed his eyes. In a few minutes he was snoring quietly.

"Roger?" Mark lifted his head. _Geesh, he's lazy. How late does he sleep?_ He suddenly realized he didn't even know what time it was. Mark reached out for his glasses on the night stand and put them on. The fuzzyness of the room grew clear and he could read the clock on the wall. "8:00?" he asked aloud. "I'm not usually awake this early." _Okay, maybe Roger isn't that lazy. _Mark wriggled out of Roger's arms and got out of bed, remembering that he had planned to go shopping today. _Might as well get it over with early._

Mark gathered the clothes he would wear today and went to take a shower. He stripped off his pajamas and climbed into the tub, turning the faucets on, he silently prayed for some hot water. He was pleasantly surprised when the water started to come out warm, maybe it just feels warm because the air is so cold. He decided he didn't really care and took a leisurely shower. 

While he was drying off he could have sworn he heard footsteps. Mark threw on his boxers and pants and poked his head out of the bathroom, the door to his room was still closed. Towel still in hand, he walked to the door and poked his head out into the hall, he could hear the distant closing of a door, but other than that, no one was around. He was about to close the door when something fluttering caught his eye. He reached up and pulled a newspaper clipping that was taped to the door down.

__

Thought you might be interested. He recognized Collins's handwriting. Mark walked back inside and read the clipping, while towel-drying his hair. It was a help-wanted ad for a filmmaker, it was pretty short, with minimal details, saying to call for more information. He taped it on the refrigerator, maybe it would be worth looking into. _We could really use the money,_ Mark thought as he peered into the fridge and cabinets and made a mental note of what needed to be bought. He went back into the bathroom and finished dressing. After looking in to see if Roger was sleeping, Mark grabbed his camera and left.

------

Roger awoke to an empty apartment. _Where did Mark go?_ He vaguely remembered something about shopping from yesterday. _Oh well… He'll be back soon._ Roger didn't doubt that at all, Mark wouldn't leave him for long and Roger was glad for that. Part of him wondered what made him think this, the other part didn't care. He meandered into the kitchen in search of breakfast, with no such luck. "I hope Mark went shopping," he said aloud. Restless, Roger decided it was too dim in the loft, even with the lights on, so he opened the window shades. He stared down at the people on the street, all strangers in this big city, until he caught sight of someone familiar. Even though he only saw her back disappear down the street he could tell it was her. _Mimi._ Roger felt an ache in his heart. He had never wanted to hurt her, he still loved her, but it wasn't the same as the love he had hidden from his best friend since before he's even met her. _Still, I never wanted to hurt her._ Roger sighed, hoping he would be able to talk to her, to see how she was feeling and try to make her understand how he felt. _I doubt it._ Even if it devastated Mimi, and Roger knew how selfish it was to feel this way, he wouldn't take back what was happening between him and Mark. So what if he was scared to death about what would happen when people found out. What his friends, his band, and his family would think. So what. _But you're not even brave enough to tell your closest friends. And they're all gay anyway!_ Roger recalled the hurt look on Mark's face when he had declined to go out with everyone. Mark tried to hide it from everyone, he had succeeded in it too- well, hiding it from everyone but Roger. _I just need time to get used to this. Mark needs to get used to it too! _he realized, kicking himself for being so self-centered. _We're going through this together, so everything will be okay._ He turned away from the window, deciding he was thirsty. He was filling a mug with water when someone started banging on the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he made his way towards the door, the loud knocking hadn't stopped. He turned the lock and had barely opened the door when Maureen stormed her way in.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she fumed.

"What?" Roger was caught off guard.

"First you tried to kill Mark and now-"

"Hold on! I did **not** try to kill him!" Roger cut her off. He stormed over to the table and picked up his mug of water, trying to keep moving so she wouldn't see him shaking. He was terrified about where this was going.

She continued as though he had never said anything. "And now you broke up with Mimi for some whore!"

"Who told you this?" Roger was frozen to the spot, his jaw tensed.

"Mimi! I just saw her. She said you left her for someone else. So, who's the whore?" Maureen demanded.

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Roger," Mark called, pushing the door open with his hip, his arms laden with groceries. "Oh, you're up." Mark smiled as he walked into the room and kicked the door closed, unaware of the tense situation he had walked into.

"Hey Maureen," his smiled turned uncertain as he put the bags down on the table. "What's going on?"

"Well, Roger?" Maureen ignored Mark.

Roger broke into a smile. "Maureen," he said as he put his arms around Mark, "meet my new whore."

She blinked a few times before laughing shrilly. "Yeah right!"

"Oh, is that my new nickname?" Mark turned around in Roger's arms so he was facing him. Roger grinned down at him.

"Only if you want it to be." He kissed Mark gently on the lips. Roger felt a weight lift off his shoulders. 

"Oh my god!" Maureen exclaimed. "I can't believe this…" She sat down on the couch. Mark ducked out of Roger's embrace and began unpacking the groceries.

"Joanne is not going to believe this!" She got up to leave.

"Let us tell her and Collins, okay?" Roger told her.

"Yeah," Maureen felt somewhat dazed. "Wow, congratulations you guys."

Mark had finished putting away the food. "Will you be at The Pyramid Club tonight?"

"Huh? Oh yeah! Your band," she said to Roger. "We might be a little late."

"Joanne has to work?" Mark asked.

"Yeah… Well, see you tonight." Maureen left.

Mark watched his ex leave before exclaiming, "You told!" He immediately blushed, realizing how dumb that must have sounded.

"Did you think I wanted to keep us a secret forever?" Roger's eyes glinted with amusement.

"Not that long… Maybe just a year or two."

Roger's face hardened. "I was joking Roge!" Mark added quickly.

"I know," his shoulders slumped. "It just makes me feel like shit that you even had to think like that."

Mark didn't know what to say. "I… uhm…" He coughed. "I bought some food at the store." He walked over to the cabinets. "Look, we haven't had these in a long time." He held up a bag of Nacho flavored Dorritos. 

Roger struggled to keep a straight face as Mark dug through their new supply of food. Finally he couldn't help it and burst out laughing. 

Mark turned around and mumbled something about mood swings. 

"What's this?" Roger pulled the help wanted ad down from the refrigerator and read it.

"Collins left it on the door. Think I should look into it?" Mark asked.

Roger nodded. "And try not to forget about us little people when you're a big movie producer."

Mark laughed bitterly. "Yeah, sure…"

"As much as I want to stay here, I've got to go. Jared has been gone for a week, and it was too hard to practice without a drummer. We've got to make up for a lot of lost time if we want to sound good tonight," Roger said as he opened his guitar case to make sure everything was set.

"You're going to be gone all day?" Mark asked, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah, we can go out for lunch or something, if you want," Roger offered as he put his coat on.

"Nah, you'll be busy. I'll see you tonight."

Roger pulled Mark into his arms and gave him what was supposed to be a quick kiss goodbye, but it was prolonged by both of them. "I'm going to be late," Roger pulled away, his cheeks were flushed. "See ya," and he was out the door. Mark stood and watched him go, before closing the door.

Mark found the help wanted ad on the counter, he quickly scanned it, hoping for some clue as to what kind of film he'd be making. The three-line ad offered no clue. He picked up the phone and dialed determinedly. 

"Good morning, Upton/Webber, how may I help you?" a female voice prattled off.

"Hi, I'm calling in response to the want ad for a filmmaker," Mark said.

"I'll transfer you, one moment please." Mark held his breath. 

A few minutes later he was off the phone, an appointment set up for early next week and some directions scribbled on a napkin. 

"A recruit video for some big company… Do I really want to do that?" he asked aloud. _It would be an easy way to make some money. But still…_ Maybe he would call and cancel the interview. 

-------

"Hey Roger," Nick, his fellow guitarist prodded him on the arm, "are we going to be seeing your lovely Mimi tonight?"

Roger shrugged and turned away from his band.

"You didn't like break up with her or something?" Jared asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Roger mumbled under his breath as he plugged his guitar into the amp.

"It's the bachelor life for you now, huh?" Jared dropped his cymbal. "Shit!"

"Not really…"

"You have someone else already?" he asked as he finished setting up his drums.

"So, that means Mimi's free?" Nick asked suggestively.

Roger gave him a disgusted look. "Just asking!" Nick held his hands up in surrender.

"Where's Taylor?" Roger changed the subject. "He's late."

-------

Mark stood outside The Pyramid Club at ten of nine, with his camera. "Tonight the Well Hungarians live at The Pyramid Club," he said as he zoomed in on a poster with a picture of Roger and the rest if his band on it. He was jostled by some people walking by him to get into the club and decided if he wanted to get a seat he should go in. Inside it was packed, Mark hadn't expected such a crowd. _So much for the seat idea._ He spotted an empty stool at the bar and sat down. He signaled to the bartender and ordered a beer. He didn't really like the taste of it, but if he wanted to keep his seat he'd have to drink something. 

A little after 9 the Well Hungarians took their place on the stage, they were met with cheers from the crowd. Mark filmed their first set, narrating with little comments about the songs and the members. When the set was over, Roger headed over to Mark.

"Hey," he smiled and picked up the beer that the bartender had set down for him.

"Great set," Mark complimented. 

The blonde on the next stool over turned around to Roger and squeeled. "Oh my god! You were so hot up there! You **are** hot!"

Roger smiled politely. She continued, "If you're not busy later-"

"Sorry, I'm not interested."

"Oh, fine. Your loss," she got up in a huff and walked off. Roger sat down on the vacated stool. He turned his attention on Mark, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't know if I can compete with all the beautiful blondes who are coming on to you," he smirked.

"That's not very funny, you know," Roger commented.

"It isn't? Well, I'm on my third beer. I don't think alcohol and me go well."

"Well, then, you're cut off!" Roger grabbed the half-full bottle from him and downed it in a gulp. "Anyway, I don't think you have to worry, you're the only blonde I want."

"I'm glad to hear that. So all I have to worry about are brunettes and redheads, huh?"

Roger smiled and stood up. "I need to go check my amp, it sounded a little weird." 

"Okay," Mark fiddled with one of the empty bottles.

"Comere," Roger said gruffly as he leaned down to Mark and kissed him. "Don't look so lonely." He went back to the stage.

"Hey Roger," Nick joined him on the stage. "That your new girlfriend?" he motioned towards Mark.

Roger tensed. 

"Hey guys!" Nick called to the rest of the band. "Check out Roger's new girlfriend!"

Roger pulled Nick backstage. "What's wrong with you?" he growled.

"Chill! I'm just having a little fun!"

The rest of the guys joined them backstage.

"Your new girlfriend is here?" Jared asked. "Which one is she?"

"Never mind! Just drop it!" Roger warned. "We need to go on."

------

Roger could tell that after the gig the other guys were gawking at him and snickering. He pretended not to notice as he packed up with guitar. _It's their problem, not mine._ He couldn't control how they'd react. He saw Mark making his way to the stage through the crowd of people.

"What's wrong?" Mark asked immediately.

"Nothing, help me pack up," Roger avoided his eyes.

"Sure," Mark clamored on stage.

"So." Nick walked up to the two of them. 

Roger ignored him. Mark looked at him politely, waiting for him to go on. 

"Anything you want to say, Roger?" Nick continued.

"Let's go Mark," Roger said as he finished packing.

"Uhm… Okay." He was obviously confused. He trailed Roger out of the club, leaving Nick standing on the stage.

"What was that he asked?"

"What was what?" Roger pretended to be oblivious.

"That. Back there, with Nick."

"He saw me kiss you."

"Oh…" Mark searched for something to say. "You just need to talk with them."

"You're right," Roger cheered up a little.

"I always am."

"Don't push it!" Roger jokingly warned. They walked down the street, Roger's guitar case banged noisily against his leg. Their hands brushed together lightly and Mark gradually eased his hand into Roger's, who squeezed it tightly in return. 

They finally arrived home, as Mark was sticking his key in the lock, they heard a voice carry from the stairwell.

"Roger! Wait a minute." Mimi ran up the stairs. "I need to talk to you."

She stopped in front of them. "Could we have a little privacy?" she asked Mark. He glanced at Roger and opened the door to the loft. Roger pulled Mark back.

"Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Mark."

Mimi looked like she was about to protest. Mark wasn't sure if he wanted to hear this, but stayed because Roger was gripping his arm too hard.

"Roger," she took a deep breath, "I'm pregnant."

(Dun dun dunnnnnnn…. To be continued next part. Uhm, please don't throw tomatoes or other rotten fruit. I do know what I'm doing and it didn't seem so soap opera-ish when I first planned this. Anyway, I'm glad to have this part off my hands, it took too long to write. Please review. No death threats please, unless you can find a nice way to go about them :-)


	7. Midnight

(Disclaimer: I have not acquired the rights to any of the characters in my long break from writing this story.)

I'm back (because Alissa threatened me ;_;) after a long break, way too long. This one is dedicated to you, Liss! Note the title. I met my deadline. *meep* It's **really** short, but it's the "stepping stone" to the next chapter. And I couldn't think of how to handle everything at once. Please review! They're great encouragement to keep me writing!

Ch 7: Midnight

Roger sat alone in the dark loft. Mark had locked himself in his room hours ago, with barely a word exchanged between the two of them. Mimi had… well, Roger really didn't give a damn about her right now. Wait, no. That is all wrong. He had to care now, because he was the one who had fucked up. _How could she have known so soon?_ That thought tormented him. He decided it must have been one of those woman's intuition things since she had gone to the free clinic the other day, "just to be sure," she said. Once Mark had disappeared into the loft without a word she tried to make it seem like a good thing. _How can two people with AIDS raising a child be a good thing?_ Roger buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to believe it at first, he even asked to see a copy of the results. She became indignant, of course, and Roger apologized, of course. He said he needed time, she said he had nine months. 

All his thoughts whirled around his head, making him dizzy. He needed to lie down, but the thought of being alone in his room bothered him. He wanted Mark to comfort him and tell him everything would be okay and make him believe it. He made a half-hearted attempt at knocking on Mark's door. 

"Please open the door, Mark," he whispered, knowing that Mark could hear him. "Mark!" Roger had never felt so lost before, he always knew what to do, and when he didn't he ran away. He gave up, knowing full well that Mark didn't want to be with him right now, Roger didn't even want to be with himself. Roger climbed onto the couch and sprawled across it full-length. _What do I do now?_ he asked himself over and over while massaging his temples. 

-------

Mark lay on his bed, devoid of energy. His mind was reeling but his body was exhausted. He wondered why he thought staying up replaying everything in his head would reveal the answers. The only way to get answers was to talk to the man who had just tapped softly on his door a few minutes ago, calling out his name. Mark had heard it and ignored it, the hardest thing he'd gone through all night. Mark was sure he'd be there for Roger through all of this, no matter how much of a protest that Mimi would put up, they were still best friends, if nothing else, because of the situation. Mark laughed a bit to himself. "The situation." He found it amusing how people in general would refuse to admit things openly. _Mimi's pregnant. Knocked up by Roger. The same Roger who's supposed to be mine now._ There, he'd admitted it to himself. It didn't make him feel any better. 

-------

Mimi sat on the floor in her bathroom staring at the slip of paper in her trembling hands. _I did it._ She slowly shredded the paper and tossed the pieces into the toilet. The ink bled and smeared, barely a trace left of what it was. _It's for the best, Roger. Trust me._


	8. I Just Keep Letting Me Down

A/N: After too long there's finally another chapter. Titled stolen from the song "Komm Susser Todd" (Come Sweat Death). I'm not inspired the way I used to be. The only thing that's keeping me going is the fact that I really want to finish this fic just so that I can prove to myself that I can finish it. So please review, lend me some inspiration. I think Mimi's going to be a bit out of character… especially in later chapters… Enjoy! 

Ch 8: I Just Keep Letting Me Down

The floor creaked, waking Roger from his fitful sleep. Clenching his eyes shut he silently cursed the loft to go up in flames for not being quieter. He rolled over and tried to get more comfortable, only to plant his face into the back couch cushion. He then realized he wasn't in his bed. Slowly he sat up and winced in pain, his head pounded. _Lie back down…down…_ His mind protested, but his body pulled him into sitting position anyway. Hell, his hangovers were always worse than this.

"Morning sunshine!" he heard a feminine laugh. Mimi was making breakfast. _What the hell was she doing here?_

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she countered.

They glowered at each other in silence.

"Look, I'm trying to make the best of this situation. **You **could use breakfast. **I** could use breakfast. **Our **son or daughter could use breakfast. **We** need to talk."

Roger grunted that he understood and awkwardly walked over to the table and sat down.

Silence. Roger imagined that if the clock on the wall worked he'd be able to hear the seconds… minutes… tick-tocking away. 

"I think you should break up with Mark," Mimi said quietly, not meeting his eyes. More silence. "Well?"

"I heard you. And I carefully filed it for future reference," Roger said sarcastically.

Mimi closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Composing herself she said, "Roger, this is serious. Stop being an asshole."

"But it's what I do best."

Sighing, Mimi stood up from the table. "Grow up, Roger Davis."

"Mimi…" Roger couldn't think of what to say. "I… I don't," he chose his words carefully, "… want to hurt you in any way. I do love you, just not the way I used to. We're going to raise a child. But I don't want to break up with Mark."

"But I want you to. There's no way we can be a real family like that. Don't you want a real family?" She moved close to him, encircling her arms around him. "Don't you want this?"

Roger stiffened as she caressed him. "NO!" he cried forcefully and pushed her away. She stumbled and glared at him.

"You're going to have to get your priorities straight!" she seethed. "Hopefully you're just having some temporary mental issues and you'll come to your senses soon. I'm not going to take any shit from you."

Roger sat there long after Mimi had left. "shit."

-------

The fluorescent lighting of the lobby was anything but welcoming. Mark shifted uncomfortably in his chair and fiddled with his camera a bit. He wondered why he was even going through with this interview. But anything was better than being at the loft right now. As soon as Mimi had arrived he had hightailed it out of there. Even so, a sense of impending doom washed over him. _Is this selling out?_ Mark wondered and then laughed. He doubted he was far enough along in his career for this to even be considered selling out.

__

What's the worst thing that could happen? Work for a while and have a bit of money. Be able to buy some decent food. He shifted uneasily as he waited.

-------

"Where were you?" Roger asked quietly as the door opened.

"Job interview."

"Really?"

"Really. Mimi was here."

"…yeah." Roger paused. "Mark?" he sounded desperate.

"What?" Mark faced him. He took note of the strain on his friend's features.

"I don't want to lose you."

Mark wanted to tell him that he was sorry, but there was no way this could work out. That he didn't need this pain in his life. That it would be easier to end it now. But Mark didn't want to lose Roger either. He didn't want to be alone again. He walked slowly towards the musician who reached out for him.

"You won't," he whispered as he gave in to his heart. 


End file.
